Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Colombia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Flash Fearless to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Byron Stingily,
The Searchers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Q65,
David Axelrod,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Hill,
Black Pus,
Adolescents,
Bush Tetras,
Camberwell Now,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kenny Larkin,
Minor Threat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lungfish,
Quadrant,
the Bar-Kays,
Urselle,
Avey Tare,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Techniques,
Royal Trux,
The Wake,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Malaria!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Supertramp,
Lyres,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skaos,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cure,
Youth Brigade,
Average White Band,
Skriet,
Darondo,
T. Rex,
Altered Images,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joe Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
Al Stewart,
Black Moon,
Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.